


I'll Hold Your Hand Always (지금 잡은 손 놓치지 않아)

by Bazzys



Series: The Way You Make Me Feel [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Also for Gabbie, Anal Fingering, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Come Sharing, Dom/sub Undertones, Everyone Is Gay, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Hongjoong is Mentioned, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ilu Gabbie, Is This The First SeongSangSan Fic?, Kinda Comedy, Lube, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, cawllection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 21:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzys/pseuds/Bazzys
Summary: Yeosang is full of surprises, yes, but he never abstained from the fact that he could, naturally, also be surprised back. And he really is surprised, to the point where he's sure the universe is gonna rip in half and suck both San and himself into a black holeOrSeonghwa walks in on them and Yeosang and San panics





	I'll Hold Your Hand Always (지금 잡은 손 놓치지 않아)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeosangstiddies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeosangstiddies/gifts).



San’s heart was beating. 

It kind of always has been, a constant thump-thump-thump reminding him that ‘Hey! You’re still alive!’, sometimes beating a lot and other times not, but that’s not the point. The point is that right now, in this instant, it’s threatening to pound out of his chest.

And the closet he was hiding in.

You see, he hadn’t really planned on this. Hell, he never really plans on _anything_ in his life, knowing himself well enough that any form of a plan will be abandoned for the intrigues of improvisation. This time he did plan though, but it wasn’t his fault he was straying from it. (No, seriously, he’s telling the truth). This time, he blames Seonghwa. 

And rightfully so. Almost. Okay not really.

Yeosang had approached him during practice a few days ago. Seonghwa was going home for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until Sunday. And since promotions are over, Hongjoong spends hours, and more often than not, entire nights in his studio, coming home long after the birds have begun their chirping. 

But Seonghwa had come home on Saturday night instead. Which means he’d caught Yeosang and San doing what they probably shouldn’t do, where they absolutely shouldn’t be; half-naked, half-hard and in their hyungs’ room. Well, technically only Yeosang, who hadn’t had time to find another place to hide after realising that the closet was too small for two naughty boys. But close enough.

San’s was like 102% sure his poor heart was going to get bruises with how hard it was thump-thump-thumping against his chest, and 168% Seonghwa could hear it from the doorway he was still frozen in. San could at least pick up the loud gulp coming from Yeosang in the middle of the room where _he_ was frozen. Any other day he’d have laughed his ass off at Seonghwa’s expression, but now he really didn’t see the humour in it. 

Seonghwa’s bag hits the floor with a thud, not a particularly loud one, but enough to make both Yeosang and San flinch. Yeosang is staring right back at the older with eyes equally close to popping out of their sockets. They stand like this for what feels like ages, holding their breath as the world stops moving around them. 

Right now, there’s only the two of them. (And San, but Seonghwa doesn’t know that).

“Yeosang,” Seonghwa starts, voice unsteady, “what are you doing?”

Yeosang feels a bead of sweat roll down his temple, and he racks his brain for any sort of half-assed excuse. “I uh- so, you know, just um,” he rambles, “I missed you?” he ends up blurting through an awkward smile.

San facepalms. _Jesus Christ, Yeosang. You had one job_.

Seonghwa nods slowly, blinking a few times and clearly unconvinced. His eyes flick back up to meet Yeosang’s, who’s deliberately turning his blushing face away to avoid it. Only then does he seem to notice Yeosang’s dishevelled hair. He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing as they travel over his face to the reddening spot on his collarbone. One eyebrow raised he takes in his bare chest, before lingering at the bulge in his sweats. But Yeosang doesn’t notice any of this, busy staring at an imaginary spot on the wall.

Seonghwa doesn’t say a word, only reaches out and closes the door quietly behind him. The lamp on the bedside table casts a yellowish and warm glow over the room, but still Yeosang’s hair stand on end as the older approaches him. 

“So you missed me, huh?” he says, stopping right in front of the brunet. He grips his chin when Yeosang tries to look away, forcing him to meet his hard gaze. 

Yeosang prepares to be scolded, pushed out of the room and prohibited from ever entering the premises again without an invite. He shrinks under Seonghwa’s cold stare, feels like his eyes are digging into his soul. Although the height difference between them make up no more than an inch or two, Seonghwa is towering over his head. 

“Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me,” Seonghwa murmurs as his palm presses against Yeosang’s semi-hard on. 

Yeosang gasps, his fists grabbing onto Seonghwa’s shirt to stabilise himself and preventing his knees to give out on him. 

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” Seonghwa whispers against his lips, hot breath fanning across his cheek. “Tell me to stop,” he continues, his lips ghosting across his jawline and Yeosang’s knuckles turning white from his steel grip, “tell me now or I won’t be able to hold back.” Seonghwa’s cold fingers find his hip bone and squeezes.

Yeosang loses his mind completely. Intoxicated by the soft yet pointed promise, as well as the hand on his hardening dick, he forgets everything else than Seonghwa. Their mouths clash together in a sloppy and heated battle of lips, driven by pure lust and no delicacy present. He rips at Seonghwa’s shirt, and suddenly it’s off and discarded somewhere, Seonghwa leading him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sits. The older doesn’t waste a second climbing on top, reconnecting their lips as his ass grinds down onto Yeosang. 

Seonghwa’s groan is followed by a silent mewl from the closet, and Yeosang has his second heart attack in the span of five minutes. _Shit. San._

“What was that?” Seonghwa stares down at Yeosang. 

He panics.

“That was the uh, the cat!” he exclaims and leans up to kiss Seonghwa again, praying to whichever God is willing to listen for the distraction to work, but he pulls away to look down at him disappointedly. _They're both dead_

“Yeosang-ah, we don’t _have_ a cat,” he mumbles and gets off the bed, heading directly for the closet.

San bursts out and tries for the door, but Seonghwa manages to grab his arm before he reaches it and spins him back around to pin him against the wooden door behind him. San whimpers at the sight of Seonghwa’s frown.

“What do we have here, huh? A Peeping Tom?” he cocks his head to the side, amused smile playing on his lips looking at San shrinking even more in size at being called out. “Enjoying the show, weren’t we?” he teases, pressing his leg between San’s and against his groin, making the younger yelp. Then Seonghwa’s expression turns cold again. “Sit,” he demands. 

San doesn’t question the authority in Seonghwa’s voice and scrambles to sit next to a shivering Yeosang on the bed. No, it’s not cold, so maybe buzzing is a better word for it? Let’s just move on.

Seonghwa’s shadow falls over them, and they both instantly look down. Yeosang glances over to see San’s pyjama bottoms tented, the fact that he’s not wearing anything under them painfully obvious at the way his dick stands tall and proud. San’s blush covers not only his face and neck, but also part of his chest, and Yeosang curses his mind for finding the other’s embarrassment hot enough to make his own dick twitch.

Seonghwa clears his throat and it makes Yeosang snap his eyes back to his own lap. He focuses on his hands fidgeting, trying to ignore the unease twisting his guts.

“I know what you two have been up to lately,” Seonghwa states coldly, silently studying the way both of their shoulders tense. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you in the bathroom.”

San visibly pales and blushes at the same time. Yeosang doesn’t have the opportunity to ponder the rare possibility of it before Seonghwa speaks up again.

“Do you know how hard it was not to bust that door down?”

Both San and Yeosang turns their attention to Seonghwa’s face. His eyes are dark, almost pitch black, but there’s a blazing fire in them that’s betraying his calm demeanour. San’s stomach drops, and his mouth is suddenly dry. He tries to swallow but ends up choking instead and starts coughing. Yeosang scoots out of the way and only watches in shock as Seonghwa strides up to San and lifts his chin.

“Only listening to your moans, your whines, your pleas.” He brushes San’s bangs out of his shining eyes, a thumb running across his lower lip. “Not being able to give you what you wanted,” he murmurs, voice low and raspy and perfectly matching his hooded gaze. 

San takes his thumb between his lips, his tongue circling the tip of the finger. Seonghwa’s jaw falls open in a choked moan, and he takes it in, watches intently as if scared he’ll miss any detail in the way San’s features move under the soft skin. He notices his eyelashes flutter over his cheekbones, and the sharp edge of his jawline. 

Seonghwa’s breath is ragged, dark brown eyes piercing his soul. He’s warm, _too_ warm, his body pulsing with want for the younger. Hands are suddenly gliding up his thighs to unbuckle his belt, slowly as if San has all the time in the world, but Seonghwa doesn’t. He can’t hold it in any longer. He needs this, needs San, his lips, his warm mouth, the itch is growing and growing like a balloon about to burst and he can’t take it – 

San bites his thumb, and Seonghwa’s eyes fly open to see the other release his finger to wrap a hand around his dick, leaning in and licking from the base to the tip. His knees almost give out only at that, and he has to support himself by grabbing the top bunk. San kisses the head, dragging a thumb over the slit and Seonghwa shudders. But then he opens wide and Seonghwa can see his dick disappear into San, who slides down the length as far as he can with his hand grabbing what he can’t reach. His other hand is placed firmly on the back of his thigh, almost cupping his ass, and fingernails digging into the skin dangerously near his hole. 

San goes back up and strokes a few times to cover all of his dick in saliva before diving down again. This time he goes further, his throat squeezing around the head in a gag, and Seonghwa fights a scream. San hollows his cheeks on the way out, drawing a loud gasp from the older. 

In other words: Seonghwa is losing his goddamn mind. 

As for Yeosang, he’s in awe. He stares at the two, palming himself through the sweats, every slick sound and San’s gags and Seonghwa’s breaths, all of it going straight to the leaking cock trapped against his stomach. He barely notices Seonghwa biting his lower lip over the tears forming in the corner of San’s eyes, or the way Seonghwa’s abdomen is spasming more now that he’s closing in on his climax over the veins in San’s arms; he only knows that he’s never been this turned on before and he needs to touch himself, feel himself properly.

So when Seonghwa twists his free hand into San’s locks and literally _pulls_ a moan out of San and meeting his mouth with thrusts, Yeosang suddenly has his dick in a firm grip and his sweats in a heap on the floor. He pumps at the same pace as the others are going at, trying to make it feel like he’s a part of it, and an involuntary whine slips past his lips. 

Seonghwa glances over, and they lock eyes. Yeosang’s skin is bubbling. He can see the glistening sweat covering the other’s entire chest, his bangs sticking to his forehead and mouth hanging open to pant. Seonghwa reaches for Yeosang, urges him closer, fumbling for his wrist when he’s close enough. They kiss messily, spit everywhere and teeth clacking together, but Yeosang doesn’t care about any of it. Seonghwa is desperate, and he’s never seen him like this ever, unravelling and falling apart at the seams, and he’ll probably never see him so vulnerable again. Yeosang decides to make the most of it while he has the chance.

His fingers trail down Seonghwa’s spine, leaving both shivers and burns wherever they touch. Seonghwa gasps and Yeosang bites his lip, pulling away and stepping behind the taller. There he plants butterfly kisses on his shoulder, hands finding his ass and grabbing hard. Seonghwa yelps, hips jerking forward and into San, who’s not prepared and gags so hard he has to pull off and cough.

“Pathetic, don’t you think?” Yeosang chuckles, lips dragging across the damp skin to bite at the top of Seonghwa’s spine.

“Wh- What?” he responds, eyes screwed shut.

Yeosang hums and glares at San from over Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Can’t even take you properly,” he whispers sweetly into the elder’s ear, but the reprimanding makes San shrink. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise I’ll do better just please give me another chance,” San begs, tears threatening to spill from his huge eyes.

“Look at him, Seongie,” Yeosang says instead, ignoring San’s attempts at pardon and focusing on the way Seonghwa’s shoulders tense at the lack of formality, “look how pathetic he is.” Yeosang’s fingers find Seonghwa’s nipple and pinches it, and he nearly crumbles into the sensation. “Today he’s yours to play with,” Yeosang nibbles on Seonghwa’s ear, “do whatever you like.”

He drops down and spreads Seonghwa’s cheeks. Before the other realises what’s happening he’s licking a stripe from his sack to his hole, tongue teasing the rim gently. Seonghwa falls forward, his legs finally giving out, and ends up trapping San’s smaller frame beneath him. He pants into the crook of his neck as Yeosang circles his hole and prods his tongue harder against it, the muscles relaxing enough to let the tip sink in. 

“Where’s your lube?” Yeosang asks and gets to his feet, not wanting a single moment go to waste. 

Seonghwa points in the general direction of his dresser and squeaks out something about a top drawer. Yeosang checks both and have to dig around before he finds it, nearly empty. He pops the cap open and out wafts the scent of roses.

“Ah, Seongie, this matches your cheeks,” he teases, relishing in the way Seonghwa blushes a bright red and hides deeper into San.

Squeezing a fair amount of lube onto his fingers, he warms it up between them and positions himself. “Ready?”

“Wait,” he grumbles. “San, can you- can you turn around?” he stammers hesitatingly.

San nods eagerly, and Yeosang can’t help the smile playing on his lips as they reposition themselves in the middle of the bed. San is now fully naked and lying on his stomach, dick rubbing against the harsh fabric of the sheets with every little movement and dip in the bed. Seonghwa’s sprawled on top like a human blanket, his legs resting on either side of San’s, his ass on perfect display.

“I- I’m ready now,” Seonghwa mumbles, another blush creeping up his neck.

Yeosang climbs onto the bed as well, hearing the bed springs complain about the additional weight. He positions his finger against Seonghwa’s entrance, and the other yelps in anticipation, but the intrusion doesn’t come.

“Seonghwa,” Yeosang murmurs and places a kiss at the small of his back, “my good boy.” Seonghwa relaxes into his words. He plants another kiss on his shoulder blade.

“If you want to stop or if anything feels wrong, promise you’ll tell me?” 

Seonghwa nods into the mattress. Yeosang leans further in to look at his face.

“Seongie, I need you to tell me you will, I have to hear you say it baby,” he coaxes, voice barely more than a whisper against his cheek.

Seonghwa twists his neck to kiss him, deep and affectionate, the complete opposite of the desperate one from earlier. Then he pulls away. 

“Okay,” he smiles, “I promise.”

No sooner than the words have left his lips Yeosang presses in to the first knuckle. He lets a gasping Seonghwa get used to the feeling, waiting for his muscles to relax around him before trying to move. He pushes in a little more, the lube making the glide easier, and carefully starts moving back and forth. Planting kisses and praises against Seonghwa’s back, he hears San mewl under the weight. 

“You’re both doing so good for me,” Yeosang announces, and immediately San lets out a dry sob. 

Soon enough he figures Seonghwa is going to be alright with another finger, and slowly pushes in again. Seonghwa winces, the stretch unbearable at first, but in no time, he’s panting again, pleasure building up already. 

“Yeosang-ah,” he squeaks, “go faster.”

Yeosang complies, thrusting harder and angling his wrist to get better access. The tips of his fingers skirt the bundle of nerves in Seonghwa and he wriggles to make them hit right on, and he let’s out a cry. 

“Oh shit, right there,” he pants, “please right there.”

Yeosang is pretty sure he could never deny Seonghwa, especially not in this state, and he adds a third finger. Seonghwa moans loudly, right into San’s ear, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. His fingers ram into his prostate head on. That and the extra stretch makes Seonghwa squirm, and San’s dick rubs against the mattress uncomfortably. 

“You’re taking me so well, Seongie,” Yeosang grunts between the thrusts.

Seonghwa moves around even more at the praise and the pleasure, his hips attempting to meet his hand, and his dick slides between San’s ass cheeks. Both of them moan, a sound so guttural and raw and _hot_ that Yeosang is surprised he didn’t bust his load all over Seonghwa’s backside right then.

“Want you – I want you, Yeo- Yeosang please,” Seonghwa whimpers.

Yeosang’s streak at denying Seonghwa anything is already non-existent, and he doesn’t plan on starting one now. Not when his bandmate, his elder, his _hyung_ wants him and needs him. Seonghwa’s hole clenches around nothing as he removes his fingers. He reaches for the discarded bottle of lube and squeezes some more into his palm before lathering himself up, his dick jerking at getting some attention.

" _Yeosang_ ,” Seonghwa cries, “hurry up _please_ ”.

Yeosang spreads Seonghwa’s legs further and kneels between them, straddling the back of San’s thighs. “Alright, baby, I’m right here,” he comforts, holding his hip for leverage.

And when the prods against Seonghwa and finally, _finally_ pushes inside, he loses his goddamn mind. It’s tight, so _tight_ , and warm, and Seonghwa clenches around the head of his dick like an invite. Sliding further in, he has to take a break if he’s going to last at all. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and Seonghwa groans, gaping and eyes closed tight, bunching the bedsheets into his fists so hard his knuckles turn white.

Yeosang sinks deeper, almost being sucked into Seonghwa, his hipbones making contact with Seonghwa’s ass. He can already feel his arms starting to shake from the weight of holding himself up multiplied with the weight of the impending realisation that’s going to hit him later of what they’ve actually done. But still he moves back and thrusts his hips forward again, the gentleness from before long gone.

San winces under the heavy weight, and Seonghwa kisses his shoulder in consolation. Yeosang pulls out and thrusts in yet again, _hard_ , and the sound of skin slapping against skin almost deafens out Seonghwa’s loud moan. Neither of them thinks about anything else than right here and right now, too lost in the moment to care or even acknowledge that they’re not the only ones at home, or that it’s about time for Hongjoong to wrap up at the studio. They’re all sweaty, moaning and trembling, chasing their own releases, and it doesn’t take long before Seonghwa admits he’s close.

Even though his arms are screaming at him, Yeosang still leans on only one to grab Seonghwa’s hip with the other. With the extra leverage and change in weight he manages to find the exact angle that has Seonghwa screaming into the mattress. He slams against his prostate relentlessly, his pace harsh enough to leave Seonghwa’s behind bright red from the slaps. Seonghwa’s own dick glides along San’s ass crack, the stimulation too much, too overwhelming, and he comes all over San and himself while biting into San’s shoulder to muffle his moan. 

Yeosang doesn’t stop, the obscenely loud noises of lube and skin and the smell of roses and sweat and sex only driving him harder towards his own orgasm. He abuses Seonghwa’s prostate, never letting up for a second, until San is full out sobbing under the both of them from the cruel friction against his trapped cock. And when Seonghwa pleads for him to come, his hips stutters and he enters another dimension of stars and weird shapes and colours with a bang. 

He rides it out slowly, eventually collapsing on top of his bandmates. They’re breathing harder than ever, even after the toughest of practices. Seonghwa nudges Yeosang to move when San sniffles, and he pulls out to flop to one side while Seonghwa rolls to the other. They both cuddle into San’s sides, shushing him gently. Yeosang wraps his arms around his shaking shoulders, pulling his back against his chest firmly, and nosing behind his ear. Seonghwa plays with his fingers and his bangs, wiping away tears with the softest touch of his thumbs. 

“You’ve been so good, baby,” Yeosang coos into his ear, “so, so good. You were perfect,” he continues, “gosh, you’re stunning, Sannie.”

San’s sobs eventually die down, but his erection is still leaking pre-come from not being touched.

“Would you like us to help you with that? Make it feel better?” Seonghwa asks, his honey voice back to normal. 

San nods.

“How do you want it, Sannie?” Yeosang asks, planting tiny butterfly kisses on the side of his face. 

He sniffles once more, but then reaches for Seonghwa’s hand. “Please?” He looks up at him with pleading, puppy-like eyes, and Seonghwa smiles down at him in return.

Yeosang brings San with him into a sitting position and shuffles back until he can lean against the wall. San follows and rests between his legs, while Seonghwa lies on his stomach beside them. 

He wraps a hand around San’s dick, and immediately he cries out in pain, all that rubbing against the cotton sheet making him overly sensitive and sore. Seonghwa startles and is about to draw his hand back when San urges him to go on and promises that he’s fine. Seonghwa looks questioningly at Yeosang for confirmation, and he smiles reassuringly at the older. 

Seonghwa moves his hand again, and this time San only whimpers. It doesn’t take long until he’s squirming in Yeosang’s hold, and he caresses his upper body with warm and exploring hands, making sure to not leave a single patch of skin untouched. San gasps and turns his head to kiss Yeosang at an awkward angle when his nipples are played with. Yeosang locks eyes with Seonghwa, almost feeling possessive over the boy in his arms, and had it not been for the fact that he just came after waiting for so damn _long_ he would’ve been rock hard again. 

Seonghwa drags his tongue over his bottom lip and gets up to straddle San’s thighs. His hand keeps a steady rhythm, but he starts twisting his hand every now and then on the upstroke, squeezing the head of San’s dick, effectively drawing a loud moan from the very back of San’s throat. Seonghwa smirks at Yeosang, keeping eye-contact as he leans in to bite at San’s bottom lip. The boy sighs, easily giving in to Seonghwa’s tongue asking for access. 

Yeosang chuckles at the sight, and he sneaks his hand down to wrap around Seonghwa’s. They edge San closer together, and with a bite into his neck his body jerks and he comes into their hands. 

Seonghwa brings his hand to Yeosang’s mouth, and he willingly lets his tongue dart out to lick it clean. He does the same to Seonghwa, and for a while there’s a silence over them. San comes down from his high, sinking into Yeosang exhausted, and only then does he notice how weary he is himself. 

“We should clean up a bit,” Seonghwa yawns.

San grunts, already half-asleep and curls closer into Yeosang, who giggles and pecks his forehead. 

“Sannieeee,” Yeosang coos, and San opens one eye to look at him, “I know you have an exhibition kink, but you wouldn’t want Hongjoong to find out we made a mess on _his_ bed, do you?”

At the mention of their leader’s name, San shoots out of bed and sprints to the bathroom. “Subs go first!”

Seonghwa only laughs at the younger but catches Yeosang staring at him from the corner of his eye. For a few long seconds they do nothing but stare into each other’s eyes.

“What?” Seonghwa asks, embarrassment creeping over him to tint his cheeks.

“Nothing,” Yeosang grins, eyes glinting in the dimly lit room, “I just didn’t know you had a disrespect kink,” he finishes, Seonghwa smacking a pillow into his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I can't believe I actually managed to finish not one, but TWO smut fics in only a month??? AND it's the very first SeongSangSan fic?? Wow O.O  
> Comments and kudos makes my entire day, so please leave some love down below! You can come yell at me on Twitter as well at @opphwasbaby <3
> 
> Also a huge thanks to my girl Gabs for doing great at her exams, here's a lil reward for you!


End file.
